“artistry and individuality within poetry & prose”
The impetus behind this tagline is a love story I’d written years ago. That love story, loosely categorized as a work of romantic women’s fiction (if it must be categorized), is unusual. It’s so different that several beta readers told me they’d never read a story like it. Additionally, those beta readers told me that my writing style was somewhere outside the commercial-fiction box. And this got me thinking.
Maybe my story is “too different”. Maybe my prose is “too poetic”. Maybe these are reasons why the traditional publishing path resulted in a dead end for me.
But not really.
To me, dead ends are signs to try another path, so, when I decided to establish River Blossoms Press, I committed to being true to myself as an artist. My publishing house will publish writing that I love—stories and poems that are as unique as their creator.
I value artistry. Words are like music notes—best linked with care.
I value individuality. River Blossoms Press is a creative endeavor without any desire to prove itself. If book sales are low, it doesn’t mean that the book isn’t treasured by those who bought it. Maybe that book is simply different. And that’s okay because individuality is precious.
With this thought in mind, I want to share a poem I recently posted on Instagram. It is about intuition, individuality, and strength.
Always sitting left of my navel. Gnawing on seeds. Spitting chances. Throwing fear a bone. Was it easier to not do the things? To hide behind I don’t matter. I shouldn’t bother. I sit left of the box. Always have. That container where the masses, bruised from “belonging”, stuff themselves into corners, faces crammed against their individuality on the other side of the wall. Begging. Here I am. Get me. Here am I, left of the box, eating up chances spat from that place left of my navel in this headspace where I’m supposed to be.
Dear readers, I hope you always embrace your individuality. If you haven’t, remember that it’s never too late to do so!